


Caught

by Alona



Category: The Song of the Lioness - Tamora Pierce, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Emotional Manipulation, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 16:31:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7113541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alona/pseuds/Alona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Delia of Eldorne meets Duke Roger of Conté.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caught

**Author's Note:**

> A little while ago a friend indirectly challenged me to write something compelling expanding Delia's character; just as a belated but resounding CHALLENGE ACCEPTED rose up from the depths of my soul, my Grand Unified Theory of Roger clicked into place, and this is what happened, somewhat to my surprise. It's out of my comfort zone, but I'm satisfied with it as a piece of writing. 
> 
> I did a fairly cursory check through Squire to make sure I wasn't veering too far away from anything Lerant says, so I might have missed something; also I realized almost at once I was actually thinking of Malven being near Eldrone, but I just ran with it.

Delia of Eldorne and Alexander of Tirragen had not been playmates as children; they had been occasional allies. Their fiefs were near enough to each other that if feasts were held, if forces were mustered to beat back attacking hillmen, if either house hosted an important guest, Delia and Alex were likely to find themselves designated to keep keep each other company . They were on respectful, not friendly, terms. Delia's mother had warned her she must aim higher for her future husband than a son of House Tirragen; one had only to look to know there was bad blood in him. It was Delia's duty to her family to make the best match she could, and as she promised to be very beautiful and was well-provided with a dowry, the family had high aspirations indeed. While still a girl, Delia began to share them. 

When she was seventeen she returned from her time at the convent. It was at Tirragen that she made her first appearance as a fully-formed lady. 

Alex, whom she had not seen since he went away to court, had recently won his knight's shield. Following his father's death, he had come to stay for a time with his family and tour his fief. He had brought with him no less illustrious a figure than his former knight-master, Roger, Duke of Conté.

"Alex never mentioned he had such an enchanting neighbor," said the duke, kissing Delia's hand as she was presented to him. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen – like a prince in a tale, only no storybook prince could have smiled at her so warmly, with so much meaning. Delia felt herself flush and hoped the light in the hall flattered her complexion. 

"Alex hasn't seen Delia since they were children," said Alex's mother. Alex, at her side, watched first Roger and then Delia with a peculiar smile. 

"I've been away at the Convent of the Mother of Mountains, Your Grace," said Delia, gazing at Roger through lowered lashes. Here was a worthy match! She thought of how proud her parents, her whole family would be when she was a duchess, wife of the king's nephew. 

She danced with the duke twice that night. The second time he bent close to her and whispered in his lovely voice, "My uncle's court is dark and grim without the brightest star in all Tortall to light it. Duty compels me to ask when you plan to show them what they've been missing." 

"Your Grace," she said, the quaver in her voice no act, "you compliment me too much. It is not proper." 

"That is too bad, for I mean this visit to afford me many more opportunities to compliment you, my lady." 

He was as good as his word. Eldorne and Tirragen were close enough to permit almost daily visits for a tireless rider like Roger, and both families held frequent parties during this time to which the other was invited. Roger contrived to be seated beside Delia at every meal they shared and entertained her with his easy, lively talk, drawing envious looks from other young ladies in attendance. The early summer days were mild and clear, and Roger often invited Delia to ride out with him through the hills, accompanied only by a single servant who allowed himself to be left behind when Roger's addresses required privacy. Delia's father had planned to send her to court soon after her arrival, but with the Duke of Conté all but her acknowledged suitor, he did not need her convincing to keep her at home. 

Delia glowed. Everyone told her she was looking more beautiful than ever, and Roger was as warm and delightful as he had at their first meeting. Sensing the event that would decide her fate approaching, Delia dreamed of a golden future. Only somehow it did not seem to approach quickly enough. 

"When will he speak to your father?" her mother asked sternly one day after a dinner party at Eldorne had ended. 

"Oh, soon, I'm sure," said Delia, blushing with pleasure at the thought of how she would respond when her father came to her with Roger's proposal. 

"You haven't done anything foolish, child?"

"Of course not," said Delia sharply. "I'm not an idiot."

Her mother raised her eyebrows. "Easy now. I only asked out of concern. It's not every young girl who can keep her head with such a man after her."

"There's no need to be concerned for me. I know just how to take care of everything." 

It was true that she had done nothing foolish, for it was as clear to her as to everyone else that Roger meant to marry her. Otherwise she would have turned him away. 

At the beginning it was just that simple. The only blot on her perfect days was Alex – who would not be civil to her, whose cynical sneer at the corner of her eye became a familiar and aggravating sight. She confronted him one day when Roger had taken a servant and gone to visit another of Tirragen's neighbors.

"Can it be you are jealous, Lord Alexander?" she said, cornering him as he left his mother's quarters. "As I recall, it was understood when we were infants there could be no match between us. Your behavior is most improper and does even your house no credit."

Alex laughed. It was not a nice sound. "Jealous?" he said. "Jealous that my lord has made you his plaything? Poor little bird, you're about to find your wings have been clipped." 

"How dare you speak to me like that!" screeched Delia. "I am not a child, and I won't hear this. See how long your lord keeps you around once I'm – " 

"His wife?" Alex interrupted, his voice cool and level. "You think that's going to happen? I thought convents were supposed to prepare young ladies for their lives. Good day to you, Lady Delia." He swerved around her and was gone. 

Delia stood fuming where she was, hands clenched into fists at her sides. What did Alex know? If he had only heard the way Roger spoke to her in private, he would not doubt that they would soon be wed.

Though it was true that only the day before Roger had not been so kind to her as usual. She had tried to speak to him, in an indirect way, of marriage, and he had snapped at her not to bother him with girlish nonsense. She had flared up in anger, and Roger had said that if she persisted in being unreasonable he would cut his visit short; there was no reason for him to stay if the company was tiresome. Thinking about it, Delia had admitted she had been wrong to bring up a topic that it was his place to open. She had apologized, and Roger, though not as warm as before, had at least not been angry with her any longer. 

But that had nothing to do with what Alex had said – it had been her own misstep, pure and simple. If she only kept her head from now on there would be no more problems. 

It occurred to her that Alex had been far more agreeable, though very private, as a child. They had been able to talk. The change in him, though, could of course have nothing to do with Roger. It was training as a knight that had done it: two of her cousins had become knights, and her oldest brother was now a page; all of them had become intolerable. 

When Roger returned from his brief trip she was as pleasing as she knew how to be, though she could not always satisfy. She found herself growing more and more impatient with everyone else around her. The least hint of renewed concern from her mother sent her into a rage, and she could not endure being pestered by her younger siblings, who always wanted her to play with them or intercede for them with their parents. Alex's mere presence was enough to put her out of temper for an entire day, especially as she began to watch his behavior with Roger more closely and concluded he had his own reasons for trying to scare her off. 

"Two months you've run after the Conté duke," said her father, having summoned her to his study one evening. "What do you have to show for it? Perhaps it is time to move on."

Delia seethed. "He's the one running after me! He'll ask when he's ready. Probably he has had to send away to his uncle for permission to marry, or he just doesn't feel there is any need to hurry – "

"Has he said any of this to you?"

"No," said Delia, "and it's none of your business!"

She did not wait to be dismissed. She turned and stormed out of the room. There had been sadness in her father's eyes, as well as contempt, and she could not take it. 

As time passed without bringing the expected proposal, Delia's nerves wore ever thinner. She extended an invitation on her father's behalf, which he had never offered, trying to convince Roger to leave Tirragen. 

Roger replied, "I am perfectly happy with Lord Alexander, who was a superlative squire and is now a very dear friend. Why should I run the risk of offending him when he has so kindly let me stay and given me the chance to meet you, dearest?"

"He... I do not think he has the proper respect due your position, my lord." 

"Is that so? Delia, I'm touched, but you ought to leave it to me to decide what is and isn't due my position."

"Of course, my lord. Only I don't think that you see the way his behavior tends. You are too high-minded, too good-hearted to suspect..."

"Darling girl," he said, voice wheedling, "I am older and more suspicious than you. Leave Alex be. If he has upset you somehow, it is only that he is awkward with ladies of your surpassing beauty."

Delia could not believe this to be the truth. "Still, I wish you would think about it."

"I don't have time to bother myself with your nervous fancies," said Roger. He didn't raise his voice; he hardly ever did. It was just that the warmth went out of it, and Delia knew she had offended. 

She did not try removing him to Eldorne again. She never mentioned Alex, who seemed from this point on to keep himself out of her way. Delia lowered herself so far as to eavesdrop on his and Roger's conversation once. The Daughters had been particularly strict against this behavior, but it was more important for her to understand why Roger would not give up the relationship than to be ladylike. 

"And yet Squire Alan will not be a squire forever," Roger was saying as Delia crouched by the door of his rooms. "Will you still be his match when he is a full knight? I've shared my plans with you knowing you to be the best, but if you are no longer the best..."

"You couldn't bring Alan into your plans," replied Alex. "He hates you, and he worships Jonathan. Only give me the chance, and we'll see which one of us is better."

Laughing, Roger said, "I'd rather the issue were settled before it grew into a problem." 

A maid was coming down the hall, so Delia fled before she could hear any more. She grasped that Roger needed Alex for some important plan of his, and that made her easier. Perhaps if she could become a part of his plan as well, she would rise in his esteem. And who was this Squire Alan they were concerned about? 

Roger gave her the answer himself before long. He asked her if she had ever had anything to do with the Mithran cloister while she was in the City of the Gods. 

"Not me," she said, veiling her eyes modestly. "Some of the girls had lovers among the adepts, or even the masters, and snuck out to meet them. Not many, though – most of them were superstitious ninnies, frightened of magic." 

"Silly of them," Roger agreed absently. "Were you friends with any of these girls? Did you ever hear them mention an adept called Thom of Trebond?"

"I don't think so, my lord. Why?"

"Why?" repeated Roger. "Well, I suppose I may as well tell you. His brother Alan is my royal cousin's squire, and quite an interesting character. I find it worthwhile to keep track of him and his, and my usual sources have not been as helpful as I've come to expect. I wouldn't like to find without warning that his brother is as talented a wizard as Alan is a swordsman." 

"Is this Alan a threat to your plans?" asked Delia. 

"I hope not. It would be better to know for sure." 

He looked her over thoughtfully. It occurred to her that he had never spoken of his plans to her, whatever they were. Had it been a mistake to mention them? But Roger did not seem angry. 

"If there were any way I could help..." 

"Help? Why, yes, there must be something you can do. I shall think on it, my pet." 

Delia soon thought he had forgotten about it and did not try to remind him. It became clear to her by degrees that he aspired to the throne of Tortall. She was surprised at first that the thought did not disgust her. It was treason, and she had been raised to scorn treason. But Roger had explained to her how Roald was a weak king, a threat to the kingdom's safety, and how Jonathan would be a weak king after him – and was Roger himself not everything that a king should be?

Still, she did not know how to react when one afternoon during the hottest part of summer, he turned to her and said, "How would you like to be queen one day, Delia?"

Uncertainly, she said, "My lord?"

"I think it past time you went to court, my dear. My cousin Jonathan is nearly nineteen, and I hear he does not disdain the ladies. You see what I am saying?"

Delia tried to think. If she could understand Roger's plan, he would see she was clever enough to help him and be pleased with her. "You want me to go to court to meet Prince Jonathan?"

"I need you to seduce him," said Roger blandly. "Turn his head, distract him, keep him guessing. It happens to suit my interests that he should be known to be easily led and wavering. Put some distance between him and his meddlesome squire if you can. I don't doubt you'll be able to captivate Jonathan easily, with all your pretty female ways." 

"But, Lord Roger..." It made no sense to her. He could not mean what he was saying. 

"But?" he said. His voice was pleasant, with a dangerous edge. "But? Is there anything unreasonable in my request? I am doing it as much for your own good as for mine. I know you can't see that now, but one day, when I am king and you are my queen, you'll thank the gods that led me to you. Now, what do you say?" he finished, dipping back into a coaxing murmur. 

There was a moment, but just a moment, where Delia wanted to slap him, claw at his eyes, take up the dagger he had unstrapped from his belt and plunge it into his chest; and then another moment, just as fleeting, where she wanted to run to her mother and sob until there was nothing left in her. She wanted to tell her father of Roger's treasonous plots and see him executed. She imagined herself, pale as death and far more beautiful, dressed in a somber gown with her hair veiled, sitting in a stall on Traitor's Hill on a bleak winter morning while the ax went up over Roger's magnificent head. Perhaps she would even be there as Prince Jonathan's wife. She tried to imagine the prince, but all she could see was Roger. 

Then the picture faltered. She had tied her fate to Roger's, and there was no turning away from him now. She loved him. He would make her his queen. While her throat seized, and she looked down to hide the hard glare of tears starting in her eyes, she was already forming her lips into a smile. When she was ready, she said, "Anything for you, Lord Roger. Only let me serve you." 

"That's my girl," he said, and he pulled her into his arms. 

The next day he and Alex left Tirragen together. 

A week later Delia of Eldorne traveled to Corus. In that week there had been explanations – recriminations – scenes that had the whole household cowering – with both her parents, which she had brushed aside impatiently. Their worries, their scolding, their shame, all were meaningless and futile. She had been foolish to think of running to them. She was a grown woman, now, and someday she would be queen. There was nothing her parents could do for her. 

Prince Jonathan did not stand a chance.


End file.
